maybe I thought it was beautiful, the soft earth of that country, the sea breeze like sweet vinegar to soothe bitterness from my life because what harmed me did not appear to endanger the foggy trees, our sesame-oiled tongs, our coolheaded smiles; like how it was my fault that I had cleaned out Mieko’s cage thinking it was one more burden; and how it was I who made my parents and my grandmother believe I never heard them and it was I who could not forgive anyone or I who did not try to get away from where I was and it was I who had put myself inside a room such as this.
